


magic under the mistletoe

by cosmicwoosan



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Angels, Attempt at Humor, Christmas Fluff, Confessions, Cute Ending, Fluff, M/M, Mistletoe, Pining, Supernatural Elements, angels sanhwa, mingi is a literal black cat, the dynamic duo of fuzzy chaos, yunho is a literal golden retriever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28021953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicwoosan/pseuds/cosmicwoosan
Summary: “If you don’t make your move soon, he’s gonna find someone else and go to heaven with them. Hell, he’ll get his wings before you do and that’s not even possible!” San barks with laughter, his entire body tilting backwards.“He has a boyfriend,” Seonghwa mutters, head down.“Au contraire, dearest Seonghwa.” San titters, leaning in conspicuously. “Have you noticed he looks a little down in the dumps today?”or, the one where Seonghwa has yet to earn his wings, San is the annoying wingman, Yeosang is the kind of oblivious human, Mingi is a cat, and Yunho is a dog.
Relationships: Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 7
Kudos: 109





	magic under the mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [venomhwa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomhwa/gifts).



> happy holidays everybody! this is my entry for the writiny secret santa exchange, and my first time writing something for an exchange like this! i hope you enjoy :D
> 
> i don't go too much into angel lore & it's overall not rlly that important to the story so like.. yeah

The only one who annoys Seonghwa more than himself is San. And that’s saying a lot, honestly, because Seonghwa is probably the most annoying person he knows. But hey, San thinks it’s all fun and games just because he’s invisible—the amount of pranks he pulls on both Seonghwa and unsuspecting humans is absurd. The thing is, Seonghwa can see San perfectly fine, but the guy must be half-angel half-ninja or something because goddammit, Seonghwa can never see him coming.

And that’s what always happens when Seonghwa spends his time minding his own business outside his favorite café, sipping his vanilla-flavored almond milk cappuccino—he’ll be sitting out on the patio, gazing in through the glass at his favorite brown-haired barista and all of a sudden San slides into the seat across from him and _screams_ , unbeknownst to humans, and then Seonghwa is sucked into a conversation that just sounds like he’s talking to himself.

Seonghwa has learned to keep his mouth shut and avoid all eye contact, but that doesn’t stop San from running his mouth, saying things like, “So when are you gonna ask your favorite human out on a date?” or “You gonna make your move soon?” And Seonghwa _would_ dump his cappuccino on San, if it wouldn’t just go right through him.

“If you don’t make your move soon, he’s gonna find someone else and go to heaven with them. Hell, he’ll get his wings before you do and that’s not even possible!” San barks with laughter, his entire body tilting backwards.

“He has a boyfriend,” Seonghwa mutters, head down.

“Au contraire, dearest Seonghwa.” San titters, leaning in conspicuously. “Have you noticed he looks a little down in the dumps today?”

Seonghwa glances back inside, where Yeosang is hard at work, rushing around to deliver slightly overpriced espresso drinks to troublesome customers of all ages. Yeosang’s face is normally of the resting bitch variety, but he does seem a little extra distressed judging by the crease in his brows and frown that curves just a little further down.

“It’s because he’s just broken up with his boyfriend,” San whispers.

“Have you been stalking him?”

“Just observing from beyond.” San winks and giggles again.

“So, stalking him,” Seonghwa reiterates.

San pouts and leans back. “Call it what you want. He’s _single_.”

Seonghwa scoffs. “And you’re going to make your move,” San adds before he can say anything. “His mind isn’t that fragile, before you say anything like that. He’s doing fine, just a little irritated. It was a mutual thing, so he’s not _too_ choked up about it. It’s perfect timing too, you know, ‘cause you two could _totally_ kiss under the mistletoe, and I _will_ make that happen.”

“Please, don’t,” Seonghwa pleads weakly.

San’s eyes squint whenever he smiles. This time is no exception, despite the amount of mischief accompanying that upside down rainbow of a smile. “You are the worst angel in existence,” Seonghwa hisses.

“At least I have my wiiiings,” San taunts, his obnoxious laughter ringing in Seonghwa’s ears until a familiar corporeal being smothers it.

“Yo, talking to yourself again, huh?” says Wooyoung, now occupying San’s space. San’s semi-transparent arms fly out from Wooyoung’s shoulders, waving in indignance.

“Uh huh.”

On the annoying scale, Seonghwa would say Wooyoung is just a smidgen above him. Whereas San’s invisibility makes him the most intolerable being to exist, Wooyoung’s nosiness and utter brashness makes it difficult to get by without some sort of lighthearted snide remark. Basically, Wooyoung is the human version of San.

Lucky for Seonghwa, though, Wooyoung doesn’t ask why Seonghwa “talks to himself.” Instead, he just calls Seonghwa crazy and moves on. In a way, Seonghwa is grateful for it.

But the thing about Wooyoung is that unlike San, he can actually physically interfere. And just like San, Wooyoung knows about Seonghwa’s not-so-little crush on Yeosang and has been pushing that agenda for almost a year now.

It’s so unfair, that the only two people that Seonghwa talks to besides Yeosang want him to _date_ Yeosang.

“How would a relationship between us even _work_?” Seonghwa had asked San in a panic once after Yeosang had looked at him and _smirked._

“Uh, well, when two corporeal beings love each other very much—”

“I don’t _love_ him, okay?”

“Sure, okay, whatever. Well, let’s see, you’re basically fucking human, Seonghwa. You’re visible. You work. The only difference between you and Yeosang is that you’re immortal, but hey! A human’s life is too short _not_ to date somebody… who happens to be an angel.”

It’s the one thing that stops Seonghwa every time.

San is lucky, being a heaven-born angel and all. Though he chooses to spend most of his time invisible to the human eye, he walks the earth just like Seonghwa does. And hell, he practically had his wings handed to him. All the while, Seonghwa has to earn his wings somehow, and San is of no help because he’s a privileged heaven-born who doesn’t even know how he got his own wings.

Curse being a fucking heaven-sent.

Nothing is more embarrassing than coming from heaven but not being able to go _back_. Seonghwa thinks the whole system is fucked. What, is there some angel lottery where they pull names out of a hat to decide who gets to be sent or born? Seonghwa didn’t even get the _chance_ to see heaven—his soul was crafted in the clouds only to descend onto the ground. A ball of light, floating down from the heavens, and voila, Seonghwa was born in the middle of the fucking woods. Couldn’t they have picked a better spot for him?

Well, it can’t be helped, he supposes. He just has to figure this shit out on his own, although he’s been on the planet for who-knows-how-many years and still nothing.

“Anyway,” Wooyoung says, cutting Seonghwa out of his self-deprecating reverie, “mind watching Yuyu and Minming tonight?”

“What? I’m supposed to watch them this next Tuesday.”

“Yeah, but Hongjoong got called into work and I have a hot date.”

Seonghwa sighs.

Can’t be helped.

“Fine.”

“Yay!” Wooyoung’s face instantly brightens as he claps his hands together. “By the way, how’s your little cat-and-mouse chase with Yeosang?”

“What?”

“He’s single now, you know.”

Just then, San decides to poke his head out from Wooyoung’s neck, giving the human the appearance of some two-headed, four-armed monstrosity that has Seonghwa’s eyes flying in the direction of the window instead.

 _“God fucking dammit, San! Get out of here!”_ Seonghwa’s jaw clenches.

_“I’m perfectly comfortable where I am right now, actually. He’s so warm.”_

“Yeah, he’s doing alright, though. I’d give him a week and he’ll be ready to hop back into the dating scene. Or hookup scene. Who knows, honestly.” Wooyoung shudders. “Sheesh, how can you stay out here and not freeze to death?”

San’s laughter rings in his head.

_“Humans are so funny.”_

_“San, for the love of all things holy, please go away.”_

Needless to say, he doesn’t.

“Anyway, yeah. Watch Yuyu and Minming tonight and text Yeosang to make sure he’s okay. And like, feel free to invite him over, too. Just don’t do anything nasty on the couch or in my room. That’s what Hongjoong’s room is for.”

Wooyoung leaves him with a wink and nothing else, and Seonghwa is left with a very smug-looking angel across from him.

“Well?” San says. “You heard the man.”

With a pitiful sigh, Seonghwa shakes his head and gazes back into the window hopelessly, where his very own angel is hard at work, growing his own wings.

~

Yuyu and Minming are Seonghwa’s favorite pets by far, and the only ones he bothers to converse with. They’re already at the door waiting for him, Hongjoong fumbling with his bag in the kitchen. “Oh, Seonghwa! Perfect timing, I’m just about to leave. Call Wooyoung if you need anything, bye!”

Hongjoong rushes past him, bag haphazardly thrown over his shoulder, and scurries down the hall of the apartment complex. Must be late, Seonghwa figures.

“Well,” Seonghwa mumbles. “How are you two?”

“Fine,” Yuyu says. “Hongjoong’s such a forgetful idiot, though.”

“And if you call Wooyoung during his date, he’ll have your head on a stick,” Minming adds, raising his paw to his mouth and giving it a quick lick. He swipes it over his face. “How about you? How have you been?”

Seonghwa sighs, dropping off his own bag at the edge of the sofa and plopping onto the plush cushion. Minming hops on, settling into his lap. “Don’t tell me you’re mopey about the human you like again,” Yuyu says, resting his head on Seonghwa’s knee.

“Maybe,” he mutters. “Wooyoung even said I could invite him over. But, like, he just got out of a relationship and I feel like that isn’t exactly the best thing to do.”

“I don’t understand the inner workings of human relationships, so I can’t really help you there,” Minming mewls. “If you do, though, I promise to behave!”

“Yeah, you better,” Seonghwa says jokingly. “Did you two eat?”

Both give him a bow of the head to signal yes. “Good. Movie? Your pick, Yuyu.”

Yuyu’s mouth opens instantly, his tongue rolling out on instinct as he practically leaps to his feet and trods to the box of poorly-arranged DVDs, sticking his head into it. “Please don’t be Beethoven, _please_ don’t be Beethoven,” Minming whispers.

“I heard that!” Yuyu barks back. Shaking himself, he returns to Seonghwa’s side, DVD limp in his mouth’s grasp.

Seonghwa takes the DVD. “ _Cats_? You really want to watch something like this?”

“God, _I’m_ a cat and that movie was atrocious. Nothing makes me want to chuck up a hairball more than watching a bunch of poorly half-animated humans dressed as cats singing and dancing. Those poor things,” Minming laments.

“That’s why I chose it,” Yuyu says, snorting.

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and gets up to put the disc in the player. Chances are he won’t even pay attention to the movie; his mind is being reserved for one thing only, and poorly half-animated humans dressed as cats singing and dancing is not it.

~

When Minming has fallen asleep on the sofa’s headrest and Yuyu has taken up residence under the coffee table, Seonghwa gets a text. The vibration doesn’t stir either of the animals, but the words spelled out on his screen nearly makes him jump.

**[Yeosang]**

_Hey, you busy?_

Seonghwa glances at Yuyu and Minming. They’re asleep.

**[Seonghwa]**

_Yeah I’m pet sitting for wooyoung sorry :(_

_Wooyoung said you could come over tho, if u want_

That second text flies out of his fingers on a whim, his brain telling him that if he doesn’t say it now, he won’t say it ever, and he won’t get to see Yeosang.

**[Yeosang]**

_Oh nice, i might take him up on that_

_I haven’t seen yuyu and minming in a while so it’ll be nice to see them_

_See u soon!_

Seonghwa locks his phone and tosses it aside, his abrupt movements startling the two animals beside him. He springs to his feet and rushes to the kitchen, throwing open the fridge, the cabinets, everything in the room, to see if there’s anything he can offer.

“Let me guess, your human is coming over?” Yuyu pipes up.

“Yes, and you two better _behave_.”

“ _I’ve_ already promised to behave. Can’t say much about this moron right here.” Minming gracefully leaps down from the couch and swipes his tail over Yuyu's snout, making him sneeze. “What’s your human’s name again? We’ve met him before, right?”

“Yeah, like, once,” Yuyu says, joining Seonghwa in the kitchen.

“It’s Yeosang,” he informs them.

“He wouldn’t stop petting my belly! I love him already, Hwa. You should go for it, I bet he’d give you a lot of belly rubs too!” Yuyu’s mouth falls open again, his face alight with excitement as he starts panting.

“You two better keep your mouths shut while he’s here. I know he can’t hear you guys, but _I_ can, and the last thing I need is a distraction.”

“Did someone say ‘distraction?’” comes a very familiar, very unwanted voice from the hallway.

“San, I swear to _god_ —”

~

Thank the _heavens_ , Yeosang brought food. Very mediocre takeout, but still something. Yuyu had waited by the door, tail wagging vigorously, even barking once the doorbell rang. And thank everything good in existence, San had left after several winks and a quippy, “Use protection!”

So now they’re here, sitting at Hongjoong and Wooyoung’s kitchen island eating mediocre takeout while Yuyu waits by Yeosang’s lap for some handouts, a semi-awkward silence hanging between them.

 _“God, you’re so fucking awkward,”_ San says from somewhere beyond Seonghwa’s sight.

_“Well what am I supposed to say? Isn’t bringing up an ex, like, basically illegal in the romance realm?”_

_“It’s pretty shitty, but I wouldn’t say illegal. It_ would _be a good idea to see how he feels, though, make sure he’s not too vulnerable so you can make your move.”_

_“I’m not making any moves tonight, San.”_

_“Aha, there you go. You’re not making any moves_ tonight _, thus insinuating that you_ are _going to make a move at some point!”_

_“San, wherever you are, please go away.”_

San quite audibly huffs. _“Sheesh, fine. Just trying to be your literal wingman.”_

Seonghwa sighs internally. “So how’s work going?” is the question that ends up coming out.

Yeosang shrugs. “It’s alright. Shit’s been kinda rough lately, though.”

 _“Now’s your time to ask!”_ San shouts.

Ignoring San’s interjection, Seonghwa continues, “Oh, why’s that? O-only if you’re comfortable telling me.”

“Just went through a breakup. I’m not too upset about it, but it still kinda stung, you know?” Just from the sound of his voice, Seonghwa can tell that he might be more upset about it than he’s letting on.

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that. If you need to vent or anything, I’m here.”

Yeosang shrugs again just as Yuyu puts his head on his lap and lets out a huff. “Ah, well… I don’t know. We didn’t last that long, like, three months. I liked him a lot, but maybe we just weren’t meant for each other, y’know? I feel like we rushed things. I mean, we went on _one_ date before we became official, which is pretty sad when I think about it. But I guess that was most telling precedent to our actual relationship.”

Seonghwa frowns, watching as Yeosang pats the top of Yuyu’s head. “Well… I don’t know a lot about relationships since I’ve never been in one, but—”

_“Dude, I can’t just believe you admitted that to him.”_

“—I think that you deserve a lot better. You’re a nice, funny, intelligent—”

_“Oh my god, stop talking, you’re being so fucking corny right now.”_

“—guy and your ex is seriously missing out. Look at you, you’re living your best life right now, hanging out with one of the most annoying people in existence as he pet sits on a Friday night.”

There is a pause that is too long for Seonghwa’s liking, and then there are two voices in his ears.

The first says, “You don’t annoy me, Seonghwa,” followed by a lighthearted chuckle.

The second says, _“Holy shit, I can’t watch this anymore.”_

 _“Good fucking riddance, then!”_ Seonghwa thinks back spitefully.

“I mean, you overthink sometimes, but don’t we all?” Yeosang says, smiling that very smile that makes Seonghwa want to melt into a big celestial pile of mush on the floor. “Think of it this way, it’s a Friday night. I’m freshly broken up. I _could_ be anywhere else right now, but I’m here. Would I be here if you annoyed me?”

Seonghwa swallows, goosebumps rising to his skin, and it’s not just from Minming rubbing his positively soft body against his ankles.

“Ah…” He wracks his brain for words, but none come to him. So, like the crush-struck idiot he is, he says, “W-well, thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem. Though I have to ask, why the hell were you watching _Cats_?”

Yunho glances down at Minming, who stares back at him with wide yet piercing green eyes. “It’s Minming’s favorite.”

Minming lets out an affronted mewl.

~

“You should really stop overthinking,” San says matter-of-factly as Seonghwa paces the living room of his condo.

“You know, I don’t remember inviting you,” Seonghwa groans. “I know I probably should stop overthinking, but I can’t help it!”

“You’re positively whipped.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“You get your wings by overcoming a challenge.”

Seonghwa stops in his tracks. “I… what?”

“Your wings. You get them by overcoming a challenge,” San repeats, and to Seonghwa’s surprise, his tone doesn’t contain a single cadence of dishonesty.

Seonghwa raises a brow. “If you’re insinuating that I could get my wings by confessing to Yeosang, that’s _real_ funny, San.”

San shrugs, appearing indifferent. “A challenge is a challenge. And you said to tell you something you didn’t know, so—”

“As if me confessing feelings to a human would get me my wings.”

“You never know.” San stands up with an exaggerated groan. “Look, dude. Holiday season’s coming up, and shit’s gonna get romantic as hell. Lights, sweaters, hot chocolate, _mistletoe_. It’ll be the perfect scene for you to confess your feelings! Humans are suckers for all that mushy stuff. Ask him what he’s doing for Christmas!”

Looking aside, Seonghwa lets out a deep, ruminating sigh. Yes, San has a point, and as far as Seonghwa knows, Yeosang is doing much better since his breakup. But then again, Yeosang is probably spending Christmas with his family, and then there’s the issue of a present, and Seonghwa has absolutely no clue where to start with that because he’s never had to buy presents for anyone before.

And as if the heavens hate him, he receives a text from Yeosang.

**[Yeosang]**

_Hey so I’m gonna need you to ignore the blatant intent of this text but what do you want for Christmas?_

Seonghwa’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “Uh oh,” says San.

**[Seonghwa]**

_I know this sounds like a really lazy answer but you seriously don’t have to get me anything haha_

_And I’m not saying that because I don’t want you to spend money on me or anything like that_

_Although yeah that sounds about right_

_But I mean, like, you really don’t have to get me anything! I don’t really want anything lol_

**[Yeosang]**

_If you say so :^/_

_Like the face? It’s like :/ but a snowman!!_

Seonghwa bursts out into some sort of animalistic wail and throws his phone on the couch, burying his face in one of its cushions. “Why is he so _fucking cute_?” he screams into the plush fabric.

“He’s gonna get you something anyway,” San says. “That’s how humans are. They’re all like, ‘hey, want something for Christmas?’ And when the other person says no, they get a present anyway. So you better get him something.”

“Like what?”

“Ask him.”

“What if he says the same thing?”

“Why don’t you ask him and find out?”

Seonghwa is still scowling at his not-so-angelic friend as he types the dreaded question, to which Yeosang answers, _A bucket of sweet and spicy chicken wings, please._

“I can’t tell if he’s being serious or not,” Seonghwa says.

“There’s your answer, serious or not. If you get him that, that means you were paying attention and listening to his wishes, serious or not.”

Seonghwa lets out a dejected sigh, shaking his head as he locks his phone and throws it back down on the couch. Poor phone, he thinks. It’s been subject to his frustrations for the past month or two, landing helplessly on couch cushions and kitchen islands, face down and pathetic.

He’s just grateful he hasn’t dropped it in the toilet yet.

~

As the holidays roll in and lights are strung up between trees and coiled around lamp posts, Seonghwa starts to wonder if he’s going insane. He’s _definitely_ not checking Yeosang’s Instagram to see if he and Jongho got back together, or if Yeosang is posting any emo post-breakup quotes on his story, or if he’s announcing what he’s doing for Christmas just so Seonghwa doesn’t have to ask.

He goes to the café for his usual cappuccino, sticks around until closing just to ogle at Yeosang from afar (and Yeosang _lets_ him stay and doesn’t get upset that he stays until the doors lock), and some nights, they’ll walk home together. The snowy streets and fairy lights really do make for a good atmosphere for romance, Seonghwa must admit, but that doesn’t stop him from being so fucking nervous all the time.

Especially when San, that demon, likes to trail behind them and Yeosang doesn’t have to worry about hearing the footsteps of somebody following him. Meanwhile, Seonghwa has to deal with that obnoxious brat’s voice in his head.

All Seonghwa’s worries aside, he finally learns that Yeosang is _working_ on Christmas because he and his family aren’t really close, and that he’s spending the holidays _alone._

“Nobody should have to spend the holidays alone,” Seonghwa mumbles.

Yeosang just shrugs in response. “It’s been that way for the past three years. Nobody gets me anything, either.”

“That’s it, you’re getting your bucket of chicken this year, for _sure._ ”

Yeosang laughs then, a sound that rivals the imaginary chorus of strings that ring when the gates of heaven open. Angelic, Seonghwa thinks, and Yeosang isn’t even one of his kind.

They walk just like that, down Christmas-lit streets bordered with weighty piles of snow, their pace slow. Seonghwa wants nothing more than for tonight to be like all the nights to come, with Yeosang by his side, smiling, laughing. Not alone and overworking.

“If you’re not doing anything for Christmas this year, do you maybe wanna… come over? I’m not doing anything either, so…”

Seonghwa’s stomach twists into a trillion tiny knots as soon as the words leave his mouth. For a second, he wishes he could reel them back in, but then Yeosang stops in his tracks, turns to look at him, and smiles wide.

“I’d like that a lot, actually,” he says, and Seonghwa’s stomach feels like it folds inside-out.

Oh god, now he has to clean.

~

“If you’re going to hang out here, can you at least put your telekinesis to work?” Seonghwa is _this_ close to kicking San out, _literally_. Celestial being to celestial being—humans might not be able to see or touch San, but Seonghwa can do both. And he will not hesitate to if San continues to lounge on his sofa like nothing is happening.

San gives him a very obvious eye roll, flicking his finger to lift a stray sock from the floor. “Where do you want this?”

Seonghwa glowers at him, snatching the sock from midair. “I hate you.”

“No, you really don’t,” San chirps. “And seriously, for an angel, your place is a disaster. Like, it could actually be one of the seven circles of hell.”

“Can you _please_ be useful for once?” Seonghwa screeches.

“Fine.” San stands up and assesses the damage, eyes scanning the room. “I mean, you’ve done a good job so far. Though the place does look a little pathetic in terms of Christmas decorations.”

“I haven’t had any reason to go out and buy shit to decorate my place with. I live _alone_.”

“Well, you’re finally having company that isn’t me, so I suggest you, I don’t know, spice the place up a bit?”

Seonghwa shakes his head, tossing various wrappers and loose pieces of trash in a can. “I have better things to spend my money on.”

“Yeah, like the bucket of chicken Yeosang asked for. Okay, Seonghwa, _sooo_ romantic. What’s a Christmas tree and tinsel and fairy lights in comparison to a bucket of steaming hot greasy goodness, eh?”

San offers his telekinesis again—this time, sending a flurry of clothes into a laundry basket and even turning on the faucet to help with the dirty dishes piling up in the sink. “You’d be surprised,” Seonghwa says. “Yeosang loves his chicken.”

San scoffs. “Well, good fucking luck then.”

~

As the days to Christmas finally wind down, Seonghwa finds himself in a swirling vortex of self-deprecation. Even though his apartment is now perfectly polished, scrubbed down to the last speck of dirt in between the cracks of the hardwood flooring, it’s the fact that _Yeosang is coming over and oh god what if he hates my place and gets so bored that he wants to leave._

Cue Seonghwa calling Wooyoung in a panic on Christmas Eve, asking him what Yeosang’s favorite chicken place is. Thankfully, it’s affordable and closeby, so Seonghwa will be able to get it fresh to give to Yeosang first thing.

But of course, he starts spiraling again, wondering if maybe he should get Yeosang something else because a bucket of chicken seems just a tad bit underwhelming and sort of pathetic. Maybe a gift card, since Yeosang likes the place so much. Or maybe a new skateboard, because he likes doing that as well. But what if Yeosang doesn’t like the skateboard and never uses it? Or what if he uses it, gets into an accident, and never speaks to Seonghwa again?

“Uh, hey, can you turn your brain off for a hot minute?” San asks. For a moment, Seonghwa is grateful for snapping him out of his chaotic hot mess of a thought process, but then he continues with, “You know, I’m glad you don’t share your thoughts with Yeosang.”

“I’m well aware that I overthink and tend to be annoying because of it, you know. You don’t have to fucking remind me.”

San bites his lip. “Hey, I… I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what _did_ you mean? I’m here worrying my ass off and I don’t need you to remind me that my apartment is bland or that I think too much. It’s _not helping._ ”

San looks away with dejected eyes. “Alright. I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

And without another word, he fades from Seonghwa’s sight.

Seonghwa narrows his eyes at the spot San had just occupied. He doesn’t trust that fucker for a second.

~

Unsurprisingly, the café is dead on Christmas day, the streets nearly barren as people spend their time with friends and family. Seonghwa strolls down those empty streets, hands nestled in the pockets of his peacoat. He managed to get the bucket of chicken before the place closed early, and now, it’s just sitting on his kitchen counter. Seonghwa waits apprehensively, eyes flitting in the direction of the clock every thirty seconds.

“Hey.”

“San, I swear to god—”

“Hear me out, alright? I think you should go pick Yeosang up instead of waiting for him here.”

Seonghwa turns. “What?”

“And give him this.” San reveals a baby blue box with a penguin pattern.

“What is it?” Seonghwa asks, taking the box hesitantly. It’s a pretty sizable box, though he hasn’t the slightest clue as to what its contents could be.

“Something that he wants besides the chicken,” San says. “And consider it a present from me, too. I’m sorry for being such a dick. I really am rooting for you, man.”

And once again, without another word, he vanishes.

Seonghwa shakes the box with a restricted amount of strength. Nothing.

“Weird,” he mumbles to himself.

He could easily open the lid and find out that it’s some sort of prank, that he’ll give it to Yeosang and it’ll be absolutely nothing. It’s got some weight to it, but no matter how much Seonghwa moves it, not a sound comes from it.

_“Oh, and tell him not to shake it, okay? Fragile shit in there.”_

Seonghwa glances around, bewildered, only to roll his eyes, throw on his coat, and head back out onto the streets.

~

It’s seven and dark by the time Seonghwa gets to the café. He gets there just in time to see the last light shut off, and Yeosang appears from the alley leading to the side of the building.

“Oh, hey!” Yeosang bounds up to him, eyes immediately landing on the box in his hands.

“Hey, how was work?”

Yeosang huffs a laugh. “I made a total of one latte.”

“Ouch.”

“Hey, it’s whatever. I’m still getting paid _and_ I get a bonus.”

Seonghwa chuckles, glancing down to notice the gift bag Yeosang is holding. “Oh, uh, yeah. This is your present,” Yeosang says, holding it out to him.

“And this is yours. Careful, it’s fragile, so don’t shake it,” Seonghwa says as they exchange.

“I will handle it with the most amount of care possible.” Yeosang laughs, and Seonghwa wants to disintegrate.

The walk back to Seonghwa’s apartment is spent telling tales of past Christmases, and Seonghwa has to be honest and tell him that he spends the holidays by himself. As for the childhood stories, Seonghwa has to fabricate them on the spot, considering he never had a childhood in the first place. He comes up with some pretty generic ones—how he stayed up to watch Santa shimmy down the chimney, only to see his “parents” wrapping his most desired present and slide it under the tree. How it was a “family tradition” to make homemade hot chocolate and play Christmas tunes from the fifties on the turntable in their living room. Seonghwa even hums a few, and to his surprise, it makes Yeosang smile.

They take the elevator up to the third floor, where Seonghwa’s apartment lies.

And as soon as Seonghwa unlocks the door and opens it, his mouth drops open.

“Holy shit,” Yeosang says, ripping the words from Seonghwa’s thoughts.

The apartment is dressed wall-to-wall in flashy Christmas lights, red, green, and white flickering off the blandness of the space. In the center of his kitchen table is the bucket of chicken where he left it, though another ring of red and green fairy lights circles the base of it, illuminating the steam fluttering above.

And smack dab in the middle of his living room is a Christmas tree decked with a rainbow of ornaments and golden lights that flicker on and off to a phantom tune.

“Damn, Seonghwa, you really went all out, huh?”

“Yeah.” Seonghwa tries to sound as convincing as possible, though he doesn’t know how much he succeeds at doing so.

Yeosang steps further into the apartment, turning his head at every angle. His face is lit up in an array of colors, accentuating every last feature that Seonghwa admires in his head on a daily basis, and they’re all right here, right now, in front of him.

“Wow,” he exhales. “It’s gorgeous in here, Seonghwa.” Finally, his eyes land in the direction of the chicken. “Oh my god, you didn’t.”

Seonghwa chuckles and shrugs his coat off. “Yeah, maybe I did.”

“You actually… and it’s from my favorite place, too!” He leans over the table to breathe in that savory, spicy steam. “Oh man, so fresh too.”

_“San? Hey, uh, San? Did you do all this?”_

Nothing.

“Well, here’s to dinner! I-if you don’t mind.”

“It’s your present, Yeosang,” Seonghwa says. “Dig in.”

Yeosang’s entire face expands with his smile as Seonghwa retrieves plates and utensils for the two of them.

The two of them.

For once, Seonghwa isn’t alone on Christmas. Unaccompanied by San. _Almost_ worry-free.

Somehow, seeing Yeosang so happy from the chicken is washing his worries away. His body feels light, like he’s floating back up in heaven, head in the clouds, thoughts only Yeosang.

“You should open your gift now,” Yeosang says through a stuffed mouth. _So fucking cute._

“Oh, right.” Yeosang slides the gift over to him.

Seonghwa reaches past the mass of white tissue paper and reaches a glossy white package, some logo of a glistening swan printed on the top. When he lifts the lid, he’s greeted by a pair of earrings and a necklace. The necklace is a thin silver chain leading to a snowflake pendant comprised of crystals that glisten under the fairy lights.

And the earrings are two gold wings.

_What the fuck?_

“You like?” Yeosang asks. “I was trying to find a pair of earrings to get you, but I couldn’t decide on a design. And then I saw those, and, like, I don’t know. It was like… something was telling me it was the perfect gift to get you.”

Seonghwa can’t help but smile.

_“San, if you can hear me, you’re an ass. But I love you.”_

“I love them,” Seonghwa says. “Thank you so much.”

He recaps the box, tucking it back in the protection of the bag. “Now, open my present.” _Or San’s present._

The moment Yeosang turns to it, the box fucking _moves._

“What?” he mumbles, hands reaching up tentatively.

Upon removing the lid, the head of a tiny furry creature pops out from under it.

“What the… Seonghwa, what the _fuck_?”

_“Yeah San! What the fuck is this?”_

“You… got me a kitten? And I was carrying it around this entire time?”

Panicked, Seonghwa’s mouth struggles to answer, but once Yeosang’s shocked expression softens and he lifts the adorable creature from its prison, Seonghwa can feel his worry begin to float away again. Glancing down at the box, he notices a little hole in the side of it, one that _definitely_ wasn’t there when San first gave it to him.

“Seonghwa, I’ve always wanted a kitten,” Yeosang breathes, cuddling the silver tabby close to his chest. It lets out the most adorable little mewl that makes Seonghwa’s chest cave in. “Thank you so much.”

The sight is too cute for Seonghwa’s senses. If he stares at it for too long, he’s certain he’ll just keep falling down that deep, treacherous hole that is romantic feelings.

But he finds he enjoys the pang in his chest. Seeing Yeosang smile is worth it.

~

Yeosang decides to name the kitten Sully. She falls asleep on Seonghwa’s sofa, curled up in one of the corners.

As Seonghwa waits for Yeosang to finish his business in the bathroom, he gazes at the Christmas tree in the middle of his living room, wondering just how the hell San managed to do this all. Sure, he’s an angel and all, but is an angel really capable of all _this_? And somehow manifesting a _kitten_?

_“Hey. San. Where are you?”_

_“I’m around.”_ San chuckles.

_“Did you do all this?”_

_“Maybe, maybe not. Doesn’t really matter.”_

_“It does, though. Thank you.”_

_“It’s the least I could do after I annoyed the hell out of you for the past… however many years we’ve known each other.”_

Seonghwa laughs to himself silently.

_“Oh, and hey, you should look up. He’s coming out now. Bye bye!”_

Confused, Seonghwa looks up.

_“San, I’m gonna—”_

“Hey,” Yeosang greets.

“Oh, uh, hey.”

“You good?” Yeosang’s eyes follow the line of Seonghwa’s gaze. “Oh.”

“I swear I did not just put that up,” Seonghwa says quickly.

Yeosang chuckles. “Okay, sure.”

When Seonghwa looks back down, so does Yeosang. In the center of those brown eyes, Seonghwa sees nothing but iridescent beauty, a plethora of colors swirling around in his irises as the lights around them twinkle.

“Well?” Yeosang questions.

 _“Are you gonna kiss me or not?”_ asks a voice in the back of Seonghwa’s head that belongs to neither him nor San.

It takes everything in him to finally lean in, hands curling around Yeosang’s wrists as he kisses him.

Yeosang’s lips are so warm, so plush despite the devastating chill of winter. Even for an angel, Seonghwa is inexperienced, his limited powers offering no help in this case, but he rolls with it, allowing Yeosang to take control of the kiss.

Seonghwa has always imagined himself melting in Yeosang’s presence, and that’s exactly how he feels. As if the gentlest light is boring into his body, flooding his bones and setting every nerve alight. His gut swirls with butterflies as his skin tingles, like a million tiny kitten kisses being peppered along his entire body.

And beneath his eyelids appears the same light he feels across the entire expanse of his body. As if he and the light are becoming one, he pulls away, breathless.

“Seonghwa…?”

“What?”

“You… uh…” Yeosang takes a step back, eyes agape. “What are… those?”

 _“Seonghwa! You got them!”_ comes San’s ecstatic voice from somewhere.

“My wings?” Seonghwa thinks aloud.

“Huh?” Yeosang is still staring, wide-eyed.

“Oh… fuck.”

 _“Dude, they’re_ huge _! And, like, gold! I don’t think I’ve ever seen gold wings before! I’m so jealous.”_

“Well… uh… I never really planned on anybody finding out, but I guess there’s no hiding it anymore,” Seonghwa says.

“Hiding… what?” Yeosang asks.

“I’m an angel,” Seonghwa confesses. “I know it sounds crazy, and you probably think they don’t exist, but they do, and I am one. I’m not, like, _dead_ , though—that’s not what angels are. There’s heaven, where I came from, but it’s not like, a place that people go after they die. There are a bunch of them on earth, actually, and—”

To Seonghwa’s utmost surprise, Yeosang silences him with another kiss as the light beneath Seonghwa’s eyes fades. He allows himself to melt again.

“Angel or no angel,” Yeosang murmurs against Seonghwa’s lips. “I like you a lot, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa pulls away just the slightest bit and smiles.

“I like you a lot, too.”

And out from beside Yeosang’s head pops out a semi-transparent San, wearing that shit-eating grin.

_“Thanks, San.”_

_“And they lived happily ever after, thanks to me.”_

_“I’ll let that one slide.”_

_“Love you.”_

_“Love you too. Idiot.”_

_“Moron.”_

**Author's Note:**

> :D happy holidays everyone!  
> come find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/galaxysangs)!


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